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Writer's pictureRussell Jacklin

Murder Ⅱ



You know I could,

You know that given any excuse I would,

You know I might,

You know that even if I did, I’d think I was right.


I think I should,

I think that deep inside me, it’d do me good,

I think I will,

I think that even if I did, I’d feel no ill.


Of course, you hope I won’t,

You hope selfishly for your own sake I don’t,

You hope I’ll relent,

You hope that sooner, rather than later, I’ll see sense.


I feel you’re wrong,

I feel the thought inside me growing strong,

I can feel your fear,

I feel the hunger urge within me drawing near.


Why are you sleeping?

After all that I’ve said, why are you not weeping?

We must desist from this pleasant conversation,

You won’t postpone your death again, with flirtation


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